


Stranded

by RicochetRomance



Category: The Sims (Video Games), Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: Alien Abduction, Alternate Universe - Human, Amnesia, Angst and Feels, Developing Relationship, Domestic Fluff, Homophobia, Illustrated With Screenshots, Implied Smut, M/M, Mpreg, POV First Person, Primus Is A Jerk, Romance, Self-Destructive Behavior, Short Chapters, Slurs, The Sims 4, Vampires, Worst Hangover Ever
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-10-27
Updated: 2017-11-13
Packaged: 2019-01-23 19:53:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 19
Words: 5,376
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12515304
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RicochetRomance/pseuds/RicochetRomance
Summary: "One chance is all that you will receive. One chance to lead good, pure, and fulfilling lives. Succeed, and be returned to your world, to share the knowledge you have gained. Fail, and fade into oblivion."---In which Megatron and Optimus Prime are trapped on an organic world, in organic bodies, because Primus wants to teach them a very painful "lesson."





	1. Dramatis Personae

**Author's Note:**

> So, I'm trying something weird. Hopefully, it works.
> 
> Essentially, the text throughout will be accompanied by screenshots I've taken in The Sims 4, because I can't art.

In every great story, there are heroes and villains. There is a struggle between the forces of good and evil, vying for power and control.

This is not a great story.

\---

How long does a civil war have to drag on before a higher power intervenes? The answer is four million years. For four million years, the Cybertronian civil war had been waged between the Autobots and the Decepticons.

A war between Megatron, the cruel ruler of the Decepticons, and Optimus Prime, noble leader of the Autobots.

Primus was thoroughly sick of it. Both leaders, different though they may have been, were fools. Destroying their planet and their race in a seemingly endless struggle for power. To end the war, Optimus and Megatron must both be removed from the equation.

Primus was thoroughly sick of it - so he took action.

\---

"Wayward children, hear me. Too long have you waged war, fought and died. You must learn the value of the lives you have taken - and to do that, you must learn the value of your own.

One chance is all that you will receive. One chance to lead good, pure, and fulfilling lives.

Succeed, and be returned to your world, to share the knowledge you have gained. Fail, and fade into oblivion."


	2. A Hangover You Don't Deserve

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, this idea of mine is going over like a fart in church, but meh. I've already written half the story, so I'll just keep posting until it's all up. 
> 
> Enjoy?

I forced my optics online, attempting to ignore the ache in my processor. How much high-grade had I drunk?

Sunlight. Birdsong. Trees. Three things not found on Cybertron, but commonly found on backwater organic planets. Three things I hadn't expected to online to.

Far, far too much high grade, apparently.

I'd fallen into recharge aboard the Nemesis, that much I knew. Overcharged, miserable recharge, but recharge nonetheless.

Starscream. It had to be Starscream's doing. If that traitorous fool had abandoned me here, there'd be Pit to pay. Unfortunately, his punishment would have to wait until I'd found a way off this filthy planet.

I raised my servo to shield my optics from the sun, the ache in my processor intensifying by the nanoklik. Was this really my servo? It was no longer metal and clawed. Rather, it was soft, pale, and organic.

Starscream hadn't done this. Nomech had the power to do this.

"Primus." I growled, staggering to my pedes. Beside me lay another creature, strange and organic just as I had become.

It moaned.

"Primus?" A groggy voice echoed. "What's that?"

"The thrice-damned meddling deity responsible for this farce." I spat, recalling the voice that had echoed through my recharge fantasies. It was the only explanation.

Beside me, the creature stood, his demeanor suggesting confusion. "Who are you?" It asked. "Where are we? Who am I?"

"I am Megatron," I replied shortly, forgoing all titles. They likely held no power on this strange world. "We are on an unknown organic planet." For his last question, I had no answer.

"Who am I?" The creature repeated.

"Unimportant," I snapped.

I couldn't have cared less. There were only two concerns in the forefront of my processor - determining my location and contacting the Nemesis.

Amnesiac organics were the least of my problems.

With no true destination in mind, I headed in the direction of what appeared to be a body of water. If memory served, organic creatures required water, and frequently settled near it.

Approaching footsteps indicated that the creature I'd met previously was following me. "Wait!" It called. "I can help you."

"Help?" My tone was incredulous, and rightly so. This creature didn't even know its own damned name.

"We don't even know what planet we're on. It would be safer to travel together." Unfortunately, it was right.


	3. Eviction Notice

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yep, this is still going.

Organic bodies require organic sustenance - an abrupt and unpleasant discovery.

Though I was loathe to admit it, my organic companion may have saved my life. He possessed survival skills that I did not, and willingly taught them to me, asking nothing in return - the fool.

Fuel was easy to come by.

So was warmth.

Shelter, however, was a confounding problem. Three solar cycles spent wandering the area, finding no signs of habitation or life. I was almost certain that we were travelling in Primus-damned circles.

Only, perhaps not. This structure was not one I'd previously seen.

"Do you think anyone's inside?" My companion seemed worried.

"Does it matter?" After so long in the woods, I had no qualms about forcibly evicting any of the building's occupants if it meant having a roof over my helm. 

When I approached the door, however, I realized that it wouldn't be necessary. A disgustingly familiar energy hung in the air - the same energy I had felt upon my awakening.

"Primus," I growled. Frelling meddling glitch. 

As expected, the door opened to my touch.

A cursory glance indicated that these were living quarters. Primus, that pathetic excuse for a deity, couldn't so much as trust his creations to survive on their own. This boon I'd been granted was nothing short of a display of pity.

I intended to make full use of it.

A cursory appraisal of the technology here indicated that it would be of no use in contacting the Nemesis - it was downright primitive. I would need to venture further into civilization and hope to find more advanced devices therein.

Saying as much to my companion prompted him to appear scandalized. "You're not prepared!" He fretted. "You don't know anything about these creatures - their culture, their customs, their sciences, their arts-"

He was rambling, so I cut him off. "And what do you propose I do about that?" I snapped. Surely he wasn't suggesting -

"That you take some time to learn. No, that we take some time to learn. We could stay here for a while."

Technically, the creature was correct. By properly preparing ourselves for first contact with the local organics, we stood a far better chance of survival. Besides - I was in no mood for any further "boons" from Primus.

"Fine". I grudgingly agreed.


	4. Nomenclature

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning you now that this fic was heavily inspired by the One Direction song "Diana".

There was much to be discussed.

First things first - my companion needed a name. He still had not remembered his own, and I had grown tired of referring to him in ambiguous terms.

"Name?" He pondered that for a moment. Then, his face brightened. "Orion. I'll be Orion." The decision was firm - his mind was made up.

My spark ached at the name he had chosen. Was this some sick coincidence? There had been another in my function named Orion, long before the war - and I had loved him dearly.

Before Primus took him away.

I was not some soft-sparked fool, to allow mere memories to influence me. He had chosen a name, it was over and done with.

It was time to move on to more important tasks. Namely, learning the basics of civilized survival on an alien world.


	5. Assigned Tasks

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another chapter. A bit slow, but the lead up will be worth it - I promise!

We were quick to divvy up the most basic of tasks. I tasked myself with fuel preparation, and Orion was relegated to maintenance duties.

The internet had proved to be a valuable resource in these matters, providing guides, recipes, and all manner of opinionated discussions.

Apparently, "cooking" as it was called, was a traditionally female role - and my organic frame was male. It scarcely mattered.

I wasn't about to risk being poisoned, intentionally or otherwise, by Orion's cooking. True, he had saved my life - but I did not yet trust him with my continued function. I doubted that I ever would.

My companion, strangely, did not complain about his assigned tasks. Nor about the fact that I had assigned them. He was under no compunction to follow my orders - and yet he did.

I assumed it was some glitch in his weak organic mind, some complex of subservience. That is, until he approached me about improving our appliances.

"You want to what?" I asked incredulously.

"Upgrade the bathtub." Orion replied, as if it was the most normal thing in the world. "The faucet keeps breaking, and I read online that -"

"Fine." I interjected, wanting this awkward excuse for a conversation to be over as quickly as possible. "Do it."

And he did. In the days that followed, Orion's behavior quickly transitioned from helpful to devoted. It was as if he sought to please me. I couldn't fathom why.

I did, however, experience something akin to guilt. It was clear that my own efforts towards our survival were insufficient. As such, I began to grow produce to supplement our daily consumption.

The Lord of the Decepticons, grubbing in the dirt like some filthy organic beast. I was dirtying my clothing and my hands with work best suited to drones - all to assuage an irrational and pathetic emotion.

Guilt. An emotion that I had not felt in millennia. An emotion so foreign that I scarcely remembered it. An emotion that had made a sudden resurgence when Orion had entered my life.

I couldn't fathom why.


	6. Unacceptable!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A bit of fluff in this chapter, but I guarantee it won't last. Primus is cruel, and so is the author.

Orion had done something to me. I wasn't certain what, but I was certain it was unacceptable.

I began sleeping on the couch, restless and uncomfortable, merely so that my companion wouldn't have to. It wasn't that he had ever complained - he hadn't. Irrational as it sounds, it was a matter of honor.

Yes, Orion had definitely done something to me - there was no place for honor in the spark of a Decepticon.

There was also no place for recreation or frivolity - two other issues that my companion was quick to rectify. 

"And the purpose of this is?" I inquired apprehensively.

"Cultural education," my companion replied brightly. "The creatures of this planet play these games for fun."

There was little else to do but watch as he played, paying attention all the while. Not to the controls, or to the game - but to him.

How he laughed. How he smiled. How youthful and unburdened he seemed, losing himself in a virtual world without a care for the grim reality of our predicament.

It was then that I realized what Orion had done to me.

He had made me fall in love.


	7. Dying Light

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Angst again. Megatron isn't good at relationships, and it doesn't help that he's in serious denial.

We spent untold cycles together, doing little else but talking. Orion's values were achingly familiar - values of freedom, equality, and opportunity - values upon which the Decepticon cause had originally been built. Before the horrors of war obliterated every last trace of that naïve idealism.

Truly, my companion was a naïve creature. Almost dangerously so. Fascinated by such simple things as the clouds in the sky, or the waves lapping against the shore.

And yet, I found myself watching the clouds at his side. A foolish activity, little more than a waste of time. But it made Orion happy - and the infirm mind of this damnable organic body insisted that nothing at all was more important.

Not my return to the Nemesis, not my freedom from Primus's curse, not even the war.

That night, we slept together. Pretending all the while that the arrangement was strictly platonic.

His frame was warm against mine. We were matched in size at the shoulder and hip, yet he felt fragile somehow, small. He felt like Orion. Felt like the mech I had loved and lost more than four millennia ago.

He wasn't that Orion. He never would be. I drilled that fact again and again into my processor, repeating it until the endless repetition exhausted me into sleep.

"You don't like me." The words hurt more than they should have. Spoken over breakfast, in such a wounded and innocent tone.

"No. I don't." A flat reply, without sarcasm or humor. A reply that he took to be the truth. I could see the light of hope dying behind his optics.

In war, in hatred, there is nothing so satisfying as watching that light go out. Nothing so satisfying as breaking your enemy, in body and spirit. In peace, in love, however, there is nothing that hurts nearly so much.

I had forgotten that pain. It seemed I was due to remember.


	8. Vampire Hunter

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And, cue the Sims nonsense. This IS a crossover, after all.

It was in the dead of night that this foreign planet revealed itself to be home to hostile creatures.

Creatures that could control a mind as troubled and distracted as mine had become.

It commanded me seemingly without effort, made me little more than it's thrall.

Adrenaline coursed through my lines. Fury gripped my processor. And yet I could do nothing as it drained away my blood - the organic fluid that kept this frame alive.

As my physical strength faded, one thought grew stronger. One single word. Pathetic.

What had I become? Pining over some amnesiac organic, dwelling all the while on a past long lost to me.

That weakness had allowed the creature to control me. That weakness was unacceptable.

I crumpled to the ground, drained and powerless, but knowing exactly how to regain that power, to regain my strength.

The time for pining was over.


	9. Hot Tub Time Machine

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Gratuitous fluff chapter, because I have WAY too many pictures of these dorks kissing. Best read (and reread) while listening to Maroon 5's "Payphone".

I said the words by firelight, expecting nothing in return.

Orion, however, gave me everything.

It seemed that our attraction had been inevitable - and not entirely unwanted. I was loathe to admit it, but Orion's company made this miserable planet somewhat bearable.

It was from this base of stability that our studies of this planet's culture at last resumed. Neglected for weeks now, our newly aquired skills had already begun to atrophy.

The setbacks were infuriating. They very nearly drove me to glitch - or at least, to enact my rage on the unfortunate natives of this planet.

Orion, however, had learned something of the relaxation methods of our new species. Relaxation methods that proved both pleasurable and effective.

As I spent time in those warm waters, I was surprised to find my temper melting away - replaced by that same weak kindness that defined Orion's spark. Yet, I couldn't bring myself to be truly angered, or even disgusted.

After all, it was merely temporary, an instinctual reaction of an organic frame to comfortable conditions.

It was merely temporary. Or so I assumed. 


	10. Alien on Alien Action

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Misleading title is misleading. Also, more Sims stupidity.

Skill development was progressing acceptably. Cultural acclimatisation was progressing acceptably. And the relationship between myself and the organic was progressing far, far too well.

Pit, this degree of closeness was unacceptable. A blatant vulnerability, on both of our parts. A vulnerability that other hostile creatures on this Primus-forsaken planet soon saw fit to exploit.

They arrived under the cover of darkness, unobserved. They took Orion from me.

Only temporarily, but in that moment, I had no way of knowing. In that moment, I felt only rage. As ever, my rage spurred me onwards into battle - and on this backwater mudball, Orion's safety was the only worthwhile battlefield.

I hastily began to research and construct weapons, rudimentary though they were, believing that I would need to reclaim him by force.

It seemed, however, that his captors possessed a twisted sense of humor. They returned Orion to me the following night, shaken but relatively unharmed.

His embrace was desperate, and there was no small measure of desperation in my reply.

In that moment, I knew that our isolation must end - immediately. The threats found on this planet were subtle and stealthy. They could not be overcome alone, only through an alliance with other organic creatures. Ones which possessed the knowledge and weaponry that we lacked.

Our skills and our knowledge were imperfect. We risked the discovery of our true nature - but it was a risk that I was willing to take. The only other option was losing Orion, and that was no option at all.


	11. No More Books

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, the next few chapters are going to be fluffy nonsense.
> 
> Also, the premade Sims in this chapter are Dominic Fyres and Moria Fyres, from the GT expansion.

It was decided our first foray into an organic settlement would be to a library. Such a place would allow us to gather information and meet potential allies - killing two Autobots with one grenade, so to speak.

I had little more than disdain for these creatures, regardless that I was temporarily a member of their species.

It showed in my initial interactions - I was not well received.

Orion, however, had a remarkable social talent. With natural ease, he ingratiated himself to them, managing even to compensate for my own abrasive nature.

I dwelt only momentarily on the physical differences between them - one pale and female, the other dark and male. It seemed this species had the potential for a wide variety of forms.

Our primary focus was on the hostile creatures that we had encountered. It seemed these foes were well known, if not entirely common. Through a combination of reference texts, internet research, and animated discussions with these organics, we began to understand their nature.

The creatures that had taken Orion were known simply as "aliens", and abducted victims for experimentation. Their ultimate goal was unknown, though I privately suspected planetary domination.

The creature that had drained my blood was known as a vampire, a foe that took many forms to hide among civilized organics and to prey upon them. Many were reportedly ancient - but hundreds of organic years is a blink of an eye compared to the ten million year lifespan of a Cybertronian.

Another reminder of how pathetically inferior these creatures were.

The organics seemed surprised by our ignorance, and it rankled me to seem the fool.

"We only moved here recently." Orion explained, a lie of omission. That seemed to satisfy their curiosity - for now. It was not a lie that would stand up to scrutiny.

Lord of the Decepticons thought I may have been, my specialties were leadership and combat, not deception. Not for the first time, I found myself mourning the absence of my lieutenants - Soundwave would have made short work of such simple falsehoods.


	12. A Little Revenge

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Sims 4 has ridiculous animations, and they're amazing. Here's a chapter showcasing my favorite.

Our goal was to gather information, and my companion quickly proved to be both a boon and a hindrance. Orion was personable, but he was also distracting.  

Distracting to me.

Our next foray into civilization took us to a café - a type of eatery historically known as a gathering place for revolutionary thinkers.

It seemed, however, that this particular bit of historical information had been fabricated. The organics present were listless, uninspired, and disinterested in anything other than cheap beverages.

Perhaps even more bored than I was, Orion saw fit to alter the purpose of our visit.

As always, his attention was intoxicating, breaking down my inhibitions with disturbing ease. I would not allow such public humiliation to stand.

A park was a venue for outdoor socialization, but that was not the purpose of my visit. No, I had brought Orion here to enact my revenge. Just as he had distracted and humiliated me, I would distract and humiliate him.

My companion's reaction, however, made it difficult to class the plan as a success. It was quickly apparent that he had found the experience pleasurable - yet another idiosyncrasy of the organic mind.

I resolutely ignored my own pleasure.   
   
It seemed that Orion would continue to be both a boon and a hindrance, regardless of my actions.


	13. Chicks Dig Giant Robots

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Obligatory jealousy chapter. Also, if anyone actually gets the title reference (and can prove it)... I'll write you a MegOp drabble.

Our interactions with the organics of this planet became increasingly frequent, encapsulating interactions both bizarre and mundane, with creatures both exotic and plain.

Strangely, it was the female organics who were the most co-operative. They often approached myself and my companion without provocation, making strange advances.

Orion's most recent such encounter had left him intimidated and uncomfortable.

I understood the potential of such encounters to be frustrating and awkward, but did not understand the depth of his distress.

In subsequent days, my every interaction with these organics was met with Orion's disapproval - it almost seemed as though he was sulking.

It was another reminder that, endearing as he was, he was still an organic like any other. That is to say, still completely glitched.

  
   
Guilt, that irrational and pathetic emotion, promptly resurfaced.

At a loss, I spoke candidly to one of the females. Yes, the Lord of the Decepticons, stooping so low as to seek advice from an organic.

Her reply was startling. It seemed that Orion was "jealous" of my interactions with these females, seeing them as competition for my attention and affection.

Jealousy is an emotion largely foreign to Cybertronians, who frequently pursue open and varied relationships. As I grudgingly reminded myself yet again, Orion was not Cybertronian.

If I desired to assuage this crippling guilt, to make my companion truly happy, it seemed I would need to refocus my attention.


	14. Guilt Tripping

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written while listening to Britney Spears's "Man on the Moon". 
> 
> Just a heads up that the rating will change to M next chapter, and that some trigger warnings will be added. So, this is basically the last "safe" chapter.

It was irrational, foolish, and a waste of time. Or so the practical portion of my processor insisted. Unfortunately, or perhaps fortunately, that portion of my processor was easily ignored - drowned out by a veritable symphony of organic emotions.

Orion's smile was a thing of beauty - a greater treasure than any that could be found in the Towers of Old Cybertron.

He practically melted under my touch, a reaction gratifying beyond measure.

As we explored what was known as the "waterfront" district of this organic settlement, my organic companion seemed disinterested in the aesthetic appeal of our surroundings.

I was similarly disinterested - in anything but Orion. He was the reason we had come here. He was the first being for whom I had felt affection in nearly four million years. He was mine.

Perhaps taking the entire process less than seriously, I made an attempt to capture his beauty in art - but artwork could scarcely compare to the original.

With excitement, Orion noted that some organic flora was in full bloom, insisting that we enjoy such a rare sight together. The muddy ground was no place for the Lord of the Decepticons to rest, but he knew as well as I did that I would not deny him.

An afternoon spent together, with no goals save mutual enjoyment of affectionate company.

Prior to my arrival on this strange planet, prior to my acclimatization to this strange form, prior to my meeting with this strange creature, such an afternoon would have been unthinkable. An irrational, foolish waste of time.

But the words of Primus were as clear in my processor as they had been upon my arrival - we would receive only one chance to lead "good, pure, and fulfilling lives."  

Every moment that I spent with Orion made me softer, weaker, and more vulnerable. But if there was even the slightest chance that these moments together could lift the curse of Primus, it would be well worth it.

Upon my inevitable return to Cybertron, Orion would be lost to me. Without this bizarre and beautiful organic at my side, my spark would soon harden once more. After all, there was no place for softness, weakness or vulnerability in war.    


	15. Intolerance

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please note updated rating and tags. Triggering content in this chapter.

It pains me to admit I was wrong - but in this case, it seemed that I was. I presumed that these organics were tolerant and pacifistic. That the only threats we would encounter on this planet were from more monstrous creatures - vampires and aliens.

The majority were indeed peaceful, but it takes only a single contaminated cube to ruin an energon shipment. 

The insect approached us, spouting profanity. Terms that at the time were meaningless, but which I later learned were slurs. Slurs against male organics who pursued intimate relationships with other males.

Even now, I fail to understand the reason for such intolerance. Cybertronians have no inhibitions about relationships between mechs, between femmes, or between any combination or number of either.

More evidence of the primitive nature of these organics.

"Our relations are not your affair." The statement was intended to intimidate, to scare off this weak creature without further incident.

However, it was dangerously overconfident.

"This town has standards." It was smirking now. "Fucking faggots aren't welcome around here." The organic was so disgustingly full of itself, I itched to destroy it here and now.

I refrained, out of some misguided desire to preserve my companion's naivety. Still, I was prepared to use force if necessary, knowing that I would have the advantage.

It seemed that the organic instinctively understood. Rather than facing me directly, it attacked Orion. Vulnerable, peaceful Orion - an innocent civilian possessed of no combat skills whatsoever.

I struggled to separate them. I refused to let this pathetic creature harm my companion. My beloved companion. Fueled by possessive rage, I at last tore the hostile organic off of Orion.

It was too late. Orion collapsed to the ground, severely injured.

"Fucking faggot deserved to die." His assailant was clearly panicked, but attempting to hide it behind sheer bravado. "Count yourself lucky that I don't kill you too."

Spineless creature that it was, the organic fled. I did not pursue it. My companion was my first priority - and in that moment, I feared that he was indeed dead.  

I would soon discover that there were worse fates than death.


	16. Personal Space

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Listened to the song "Secrets" by P!nk while writing this. Ended up being way angstier than I intended.

Two days Orion lay unconscious and unresponsive. He required medical care - but without legal identification, hospitalization was a risk that I could not take.

It ashames me to admit that I spent those days at his bedside. Little could be done for victims of blunt force trauma injuries.

When he at last awakened, my spark practically sang with relief. When he spoke, however, I wished that he had not awakened at all.

"How long?" he asked me. Something about his voice was stern, more serious than I had ever heard it.

"Two days." Two days since I had last expressed my love for the bizarre, beautiful organic. Two days too long.

He pulled away, seemingly repulsed. "Megatron. Focus. How long has it been since we arrived on this planet?"

"Three months." Or thereabouts. Days and nights were so fleetingly short on this planet that I couldn't have been bothered to keep track.

"As leaders, we are failures." Orion's tone was even sterner now, his words sending alarm signals through my processor. "To have abandoned our troops for three entire months, for something as selfish as love."

It seemed that he had regained his memories. "What do you know of my troops?" I demanded, clinging to the possibility that he could have been a Decepticon.

"Far too little," the organic replied cynically. "Though my Autobots have always sought to learn more."

Insufferably noble, self-righteous, and condescending. In that moment, I placed his identity.

"Optimus Prime." The words fell from my glossa like leaden weights. The creature with whom I had fallen so deeply in love was none other than my mortal enemy.

I didn't look back. I couldn't.

Primus - that infuriating, miserable excuse for a deity - had played me for a fool. Primus had played me, and Orion had been his pawn. Primus had played on the weaknesses that I had once thought beneath me, and I had fallen for it, every step of the way.

Loneliness. Isolation. The desire to once again feel something, anything for another. These weaknesses had been my downfall.

Now, my mortal enemy possessed intimate of knowledge of my frame, my processor, and - worst of all - my spark. In that moment, I refused to ever again look him in the optic. 

I didn't look back. I couldn't.


	17. Punch Drunk Love

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Optimus is never late, nor is he early - he arrives exactly when the plot dictates that he needs to.

Call it an experiment, if you will. An experiment to learn how long an organic frame could survive on nothing more than cheap alcohol.

Seven days I had spent in the town centre. Each night, drinking myself into blissful oblivion, and each day, collapsing on a bench to sleep away my hangover.

  
   


My frame was reaching its limits, that much was obvious. The words of Primus returned to me, over and over again. "Fail, and fade into oblivion." Oblivion would be preferable to this pathetic mockery of an existence.

Another night, so drunk that my vision blurred and my hearing was muffled. The bartender couldn't have cared less for my rapid and obvious decline - self-interested as all organics were, he cared only for the profit that it earned him.

Another night, almost over. I made to stand - and my frame at last gave out.

I awoke mere moments later, in an embrace that I recognized - Orion's. I leaned in to kiss him, until my clouded mind recalled why I couldn't.

"Prime." I spat the word like a curse, pushing him away while knowing full well that I could not stand without his aid.

But he didn't let go. "Megatron." He spoke in some clumsy attempt at a soothing tone. "Please, stop."

"And why should I?" I demanded, words slurring together into near nonsense.

"Because I love you." Words I had never expected to hear from the lipplates of my nemesis.

Blame it on the alcohol. Blame it on Primus. Blame it on this weak, useless, organic form. I kissed him, deeply and fully. I kissed him,  crashing our mouths inelegantly together. I kissed him - and I meant it.


	18. Banging on the Bathroom Floor

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This, ladies and gentlemen, is why you always wear a condom.

The cultures of the Autobots and the Decepticons have diverged wildly over the course of the war - no longer can we all be classed under a label so broad as "Cybertronian".

Never was this more clear than during the short journey from the bar to our living quarters. Among Decepticons, overcharged interface is common - preferable, in fact. Interface without inhibition, without restraint, requiring no excuses the following orn.

That fool Prime didn't understand. Fretting on and on about regret, and poor decisions, and some nonsense about "taking advantage".

Sanctimonious Autobot nonsense, which I was quick to mute. He hadn't expected to be fragged in public, but Primus only knows he enjoyed it.

I could be forceful with him, rough and merciless as I never could have been with Orion. And Prime enjoyed every minute of it, the kinky fragger.

Across the bed, the sofa, anything vaguely resembling a flat, solid surface. I would never stoop to telling Prime how much his confession had meant to me. Far easier to show it, in a hedonistic reunion that should never have been necessary.

This impassioned celebration lasted well into the following day, lasted so long that I was scarcely even drunk by the end of it. And by all rights, that should have been the end of it.

Prime was sick the next morning, and the morning after that. I thought nothing of it. Autobots were weak, that was hardly news to anymech.

On the third day, however, the true horror of our situation dawned. Prime's illness was not an illness - it was the nausea that preceded a carrying cycle. Optimus Prime - my mortal enemy turned grudging partner and surprisingly enthusiastic frag toy - was carrying my sparkling.

Clearly, Primus hadn't yet had his fill of our suffering.


	19. Pay My Rent

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a heads up that this fic is going on temporary hiatus - two weeks at least, possibly more. 
> 
> The Sims 4 got a major patch and a new expansion pack, which broke all my mods. Some of those mods are needed to run the save file where I take the screenshots for this story. It'll take some time for said mods to be updated for compatibility with the new content - at which time I'll be able to get back to this fic. 
> 
> In the meantime, I hope you'll be patient. Thanks so much for reading this far!

Where there is civilization, there is corruption. The denser the population, the more corrupt the infrastructure becomes. That had been the case on Cybertron, and it seemed that it was also the case on this organic backwater.

The ease with which corruption can be exploited is as pathetic as it is amusing. A transfer of funds, a threat or two, perhaps some casual interface - it had been that simple on Cybertron, and it was just as simple here.

A small bribe to an overworked bureaucrat, and I easily secured false paperwork - paperwork that allowed myself and the Prime to appear as legal residents of this organic nation.

As residents, we could secure living quarters other than that miserable hovel granted to us by Primus - a hovel which I could no longer justify as safe. I couldn't have cared less for Prime's wellbeing, but the sparkling he carried was mine - and I would protect that sparkling at all costs.

A city was the ideal solution - so densely populated that two more organics would scarcely be noticed, so diverse that even blatant evidence of relations between two mechs would scarcely be unusual.

The paperwork stood uncontested to scrutiny. We easily obtained new living quarters. And it was then, at the threshold of the apartment, that I once again felt that disgustingly familiar energy in the air.

  


Primus - the fragging glitched moronic slagheap - had been meddling yet again.

The Prime was as unsettled as I was, if not more - a single shred of dignity that I salvaged amid this humiliation. Such a pious fool, finally realizing that his function was little more than a toy in the servos of a bored deity.

Tempted as I was to mock his distress, I knew all too well that such laughter would be at my own expense. It had become agonizingly clear that I alone was the one that Primus sought to punish, to demean and to destroy. 

For the first time in four million years, Optimus Prime was relegated to the role of secondary adversary. To regain my army and my dignity, to return to Cybertron, I must first defeat a deity.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm sorry. I really am.
> 
> Any and all feedback is appreciated.


End file.
